Be Mine
by outtabreath
Summary: #2 in the Holidays series. Luke and Lorelai celebrate Valentine's day with lots of nookie. The M rating means Mature scenes ahead.
1. February 7, 2005 — 8 AM

Originally (and still) posted at Black, White and Read.

Author's Note: As always, this is for the fine and upstanding folks at Television Without Pity, especially the modest and ladylike women (and masculine men) that congregate at Luke's (Dirty) Fan Club.

Disclaimer: Amy owns 'em. Describing Luke as "undeniably lickable" was totally stolen from CineFille (thanks!).

Warning: There is smut involved. I know you're shocked.

**~*~Be Mine**** by outtabreath~*~**

_**Part One: February 7, 2005 — 8 A.M.**_

"What's today?"

"Monday," Luke replies, hustling to drop off an omelet to Miss Patty before she beckons to him again. Luke is extremely uncomfortable with Miss Patty's manner of beckoning.

Mission accomplished, he rounds the counter again to ring up a customer. "What's the date?" I continue, sipping my coffee and looking extremely innocent.

He raises his perfect eyebrows and I think I drool. It really is sick how much I crave this man — especially considering that, not two hours ago, we were both very naked and very loud.

"February 7th," he says, his tone indicating that he knows I'm up to something and he hasn't decided yet if he's going to play along or not.

"Huh. February 7th."

"Yeah."

"Hmm. Monday, February 7th."

"Lorelai," he says — grabbing a plate of eggs and plopping them in front of Kirk, Kirk who is sitting next to me staring at us raptly.

That last "Lorelai" was in the "not playing along" Luke tone; "You did a good job with my Christmas presents," I say quickly.

"And I'll do fine with your Valentine's Day present, too," he says. "Go to work." He kisses my forehead and heads into the kitchen.

Humph. I think I've just been dismissed. I idly give some thought to following him into the kitchen and kissing him until he can't see straight, but I do have to get to work — and there is still the matter of Kirk.

I turn to him. "Hi, Kirk."

He swallows a mouthful of scrambled eggs, "Lorelai. What should I get Lulu for Valentine's Day?"

What did I get myself into? "What does she like?"

He blinks at me for several moments, gulps twice and finally says, "She likes kids."

Oh-kay, Lorelai. Too easy. And too wrong.

"Go to work, Lorelai." Luke's back, handing me a to-go cup of coffee.

I grab his hand while taking the cup, smiling up at him in a way that I hope gets me another kiss for the road. He rolls his eyes in an entirely unconvincing manner and leans down to kiss me again. Satisfied for the time being, I stand and regard Kirk. "Can I get back to you?"

He smiles and nods enthusiastically. Damn, now I have to really come up with something fabulous. Wheels turning, I head out the door.


	2. February 14, 2005 — 5:05 AM

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.  
_  
__**Part Two: February 14, 2005 — 5:05 A.M.**_

I surge toward consciousness only to feel Luke holding my hips down with one hand and firmly sliding slick fingers down the line of my spine with the other.

"What're you doing?" I mumble.

"Shhh," he breathes — the heat from his mouth blossoming across my ear.

I could keep asking, but it feels so good I'm not going to complain. He continues to caress his fingers up and down my back and I'm both entirely relaxed and completely aroused. I can't see him, I don't even want to see him — this is unbelievably erotic. He could be anyone, I could imagine anyone doing this to me - but I don't — I haven't for a long, long time. I want this to be Luke — only Luke - touching me, exciting me.

I can feel him leaning forward and he breathes on me; as the air from his mouth touches my back, licks of fire erupt up and down my spine as whatever he's using activates and heats my back. My hips buck up and he presses them back into the bed, murmuring soothingly into my ear.

He thrusts one hand between my legs and I know I'm soaking for him; his little chuckle of triumph bears that out. He loves having this kind of power over me — knowing that I am ready for whatever his inventive mind has planned.

"Luke?"

"Shhh," he whispers again, further away this time. The fingers on my back press deeper, the fingers between my legs press deeper still and I really don't feel much like doing anything but whimpering; then both his hands are busy between my legs and I'm chanting his name. I think my heart has lost all sense of rhythm.

He's nibbling and blowing up and down my back and across my ass, leaving sheets of fire in his wake. One of his hands is working my clit, the other busy working inside me. The sensations flood me — I can't fight them. All I'm aware of is Luke's hands and Luke's mouth and I'm forced into climax — shattering and shuddering and screaming his name.

I think I need to sleep as I re-enter the Earth's atmosphere.


	3. February 14, 2005 — 5:32 AM

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.

_**Part Three: February 14, 2005 — 5:32 A.M.**_

Luke is beautiful. He really is. He's beautiful when he's awake: His stubble, his smile, the curls at the base of his neck, his jaw. He's beautiful when he's asleep: Flat on his back, snoring softly, his legs splayed open and his arms spread wide across the bed.

Luke is beautiful and he's mine. I get to lie next to him and watch him in the pale light and think things like he's beautiful and he's mine — I get to remember what he did to me earlier — I get to experience that stubble and that smile and those legs and those arms.

I want to rouse Luke like he did me. The man deserves repayment for the ecstasy he gave me earlier.

Currently, Luke is very much asleep, but I bet I could wake Ernie up if I wanted to.

I do want to and, given Luke's current position, I am perfectly capable of doing so.

Stealthily, I slide down the length of his body, moving myself between his legs and gaze at Ernie who, like Luke, is undeniably lickable. Clean and spicy, Luke's smell never fails to entice me; I move closer to him, trailing my fingers along the inside of his thighs — caressing closer and closer to the center of Luke's legs. Above me, Luke's snoring continues unabated.

I lower my mouth onto him, taking all of him into my mouth easily — Ernie's still sleeping, too — and just hold him there, letting the warmth and wetness do its magic for a few seconds before I begin to suck gently — letting him swell and grow before starting to move my head slowly, taking him shallow and deep, tasting him — the sage-y saltiness that is Luke's alone.

I know the instant that Luke wakes because his hands plow into my hair and I can hear his sharp intake of breath. I think he tries to say my name, so I add more pressure and friction — I want him speechless. I slide him in and out — my fingers working in concert with my tongue and teeth and lips. His fingers tighten in my hair and he's gently tugging at me.

Blindly, I throw my hands above my head and grab his wrists, pulling them together so I can hold them with one hand — my other hand has important things to do. His hands go limp and he goes very still as I take him deep in my mouth and gently squeeze the sac below Ernie. Then his hips are surging up and he's shouting hoarsely. I compensate for his movements, letting the aftershocks die without letting him go.

He pulls at my shoulders, "get up here," he commands — his voice raw and shaking. Smirking, I lay on his chest. He pulls me into a fierce hug and mumbles something against my skin.

"What?" I'm peering up at his face and running my fingers through his sweaty hair. I can hear the pounding of his heart — the heat emanating from him is intense.

He looks at me and I can't quite read the expression on his face; then it's gone and he's completely readable Luke — satiated and relaxed. "You're incredible."

"Thank you," I smile smugly, "it's always nice to hear rave reviews."

He grimaces, then blinks quickly, as if a thought's just occurred to him. "Happy Valentine's Day."

"Back attcha," I whisper, kissing him. He deepens the kiss by degrees and my heart expands in a way that is a little too familiar and not altogether comfortable. I pull back, suddenly needing to be not feeling these feelings. "So, what'd you get me?"


	4. February 14, 2005 2:00 PM

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.

_**Part Four: February 14, 2005 -2:00 P.M.**_

Luke's is practically empty when I arrive for my afternoon fix of gorgeousness and caffeine. Luke emerges from the kitchen at the sound of the bell and grants me a brilliant smile.

"There he is," I proclaim to the four people sitting at the corner table, "my wonderful boyfriend."

He narrows his eyes.

"He gave me Bangles tickets for Valentine's Day and," I pause dramatically, "he's going to go to the concert with me."

"Get over here," he growls.

"It's the perfect gift!"

"Lorelai, leave my customers alone."

I saunter over to the counter for a kiss.

"It really is the perfect gift."

He grunts, but he's smiling. "You really didn't want candy and flowers?"

"No! I love everything you've given me today."

"Everything?" He sounds confused and I know he's trying to figure out what I'm talking about.

Time to remind him. "The tickets…my wake-up call this morning."

His eyes suddenly darken to indigo and I have an excited Luke on my hands. Mmmmm.

Our little lustful staring contest is interrupted by the arrival of three more people, and Luke heads off to give them menus and I ogle his ass as he walks away from me; he turns suddenly and catches me, raising his eyebrows and reddening. God this is so much fun.

"How are things at the Dragonfly?"

"Busy," I sigh. "All those cooing couples — it's almost sickening. 'I love you,' 'No, I love you more.'" I roll my eyes. "Thank god all of the dishes on Sookie's dinner menu are supposed to be aphrodisiacs. Maybe they'll all just go to bed early."

"That'd be nice."

What would? "What would?"

"Them going to bed early — means you and I can be alone earlier."

My heart melts and we smile at each other dopily and my heart is doing that weird expanding thing again when the door swings open and the bell rings and Kirk's voice rings out, "Lorelai!"

I swivel to face him; he's carrying a huge card and a box of chocolates that must be part of Lulu's present.

"Hi Kirk."

"Thank you again for helping me with Lulu's present. She's very excited about spending the weekend at the Dragonfly."

"Well, I thought you guys would appreciate some time alone."

"Yes. We do. I wanted to wear a costume when I gave her the gift, but Luke talked me out of it."

I move my eyes so I can see Luke as we share a moment of stunned silence as we both picture Kirk in a huge diaper and fake wings carrying a bow and arrow. We break out of our horrified trances and I indicate the items in Kirk's arms, "is that the rest of her gift?"

He sways a bit and looks at his burdens. "These?" He lifts them a little higher.

"Uh huh."

"No, no" he says, swinging his head in an exaggerated gesture of denial. "These are for mother."

Don't look at Luke, don't look at Luke, don't look at Luke.

"That's nice," I say because I don't know what else to do.

I hear Luke's intake of breath and know that he's going to say something that I need to stop.

"Nice that you get your mom valentine's gifts."

Kirk nods, just as exaggerated as when he shook his head, "she wasn't very happy with the idea of Lulu and I spending the weekend together at the Dragonfly."

Don't look at Luke, don't look at Luke. Do. Not. Look. At Luke. Poor whipped Kirk.

"Have you been drinking?" Luke asks suddenly.

Kirk looks at him, "a little. I did have to tell Mother about our plans."

The next thing I know, Luke's taking the candy and card from Kirk and pulling a chair out for him. "I'll bring you some food," he says, moving back towards the kitchen.

Kirk smiles after him with an awed expression. "Luke is really wonderful," he proclaims.

"Yes, he is," I agree.

"No, I'm not," comes an opposing opinion from the kitchen.


	5. February 14, 2005 10:08 PM

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.

_**Part Five: February 14, 2005 -10:08 P.M.**_

"Candles?" I question, sure I'm hallucinating.

Luke smiles at me rather bashfully in the midst of his candle-lit apartment. "Thought it would be nice."

"Candles," I say again.

"I can blow them out," he says, starting to sound pissy.

"No! No, I like them. Leave them — just never expected anything like this." I start to move towards him. "You know, you being all Mr. Valentine's Day."

"I'm not being Mr. Valentine's Day, I didn't get you candy and flowers. Why don't you take your coat off?"

Now see, I got Luke a new sweater and some DVDs for Valentine's Day; he's about to get the last part of his gift. I slowly unbutton my coat and let it fall open.

Luke's eyes open wider than humanly possible and he sounds like he's choking.

"You okay over there?"

"You're naked under there," he says.

I glance down, than back up. "I knew I felt a draft."

"Lorelai."

"And, technically, I'm not entirely naked. I have these nice stockings on," I bend forward to run my fingers from my knees to the middle of my thighs where they end.

Luke lets out a long moan and begins to prowl towards me. I stand very still and let him.

He moves behind me and yanks the coat off my shoulders — letting it fall to pool unheeded at my feet. Ernie is already pressing into my back as Luke slides his hands down my neck, and across my shoulders and collarbone. He walks his fingers across my chest, moving slowly, tracing circles on the flesh — pebbling my nipples in response. His breath is hitching and I think he's holding his breath. I bring my fingers up to my skin, moving them in the wake of his creating my own designs — touching myself for him. He's breathing again, ragged and fast.

"You are amazing," he says as I continue to slide my fingertips across my body, alternatively chasing and evading his.

I bite back a remark about Luke's talking dirty to me because his tone isn't licentious, it's awestruck and oh God, his fingers are dipping lower. I move mine after and he moans in my ear, "unbelievable."

Together, we work between my legs — our fingers colliding and entwining, then moving apart — to go inside, to pinch, to rub. I sag back against his solidity, torn between wanting to climax this way and wanting to ravish him.

Ravishing him wins and I twist away from him, battening down the sense of loss and began yanking his clothes off of him; he helps and soon he's naked and pressed against me — head to toe, there isn't an inch of space between us. His hand is at the small of my back pressing me into him — into where he is hot and hard and wanting me. I rub over him, letting him feel how wet and open and ready I am for him. He pushes his arms under mine, levering me up — picking my feet off the floor and swinging me around.

Before my next breath, I'm flat on my back and he's hovering over me — his eyelids low and heavy over his dark and hard eyes. "You know you drive me crazy, right?"

I push my hips up at him, "Drive me crazy Luke."

He lowers his mouth to me and I start to whimper. Luke has an incredibly dexterous tongue and he puts it to good use. He puts his fingers and lips and teeth to good use, too and soon I'm shattering around his fingers.

"I need…" I hear, and focus my eyes to see him kneeling between my legs — his arms shaking on either side of my head.

"Luke," I whisper, pulling him down and into me.

Oh God, he fills me — shatters me and puts me back together. I start bucking my hips up, trying to make him move — but he's staring at me and my heart stops. "Lorelai," he murmurs, then drops his head to my shoulder, beginning to thrust. For long moments there is only his voice calling my name and his cock moving in me, then his movements and his voice become ragged and breathless and we are coming together again.

I think I hear him sob and I blindly reach for his head — trying to figure out if he's okay. He gathers me into his arms and kisses my head. "Lorelai," he whispers into my hair; it's in his "let's talk" tone.

"Hmmm," I hum sleepily; he's okay — I must've imagined the sob- and it's been a long day, "Can we talk later? I need a nap."

He tenses, than releases me. "I've got to put out these candles before they start a fire." He sounds a little angry, and I try to focus on him and make my mouth work — but fail. He's striding around naked and blowing out candles and my last conscious thought is of how truly wonderful he really is.


	6. February 14, 2005 11:58 PM

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.

_**Part Six: February 14, 2005 -11:58 P.M.**_

Luke wakes me with gentle kisses and gentler caresses. I drag my eyes open to find him staring down at me, a look of wonder in his eyes.

"Yes?" I inquire sleepily.

He doesn't respond, just continues staring at me with that new expression of his and suddenly I can't feel my legs and my heart is speeding. I love this man — heart, mind, body and soul. Oh holy hell. I love him. Suddenly I realize why he's been so off today — all the silences and stuttering stops. He loves me, too; he's wanted to say it all along — but he didn't. My head is spinning and I'm trying to figure it out.

"Lorelai…" he says, and his voice is wavering and I know that he's terrified and so am I but I want to do this. Want him to know he's not alone in this.

I take a deep breath, and sigh out, "I love you."

He stops breathing and stares at me for so long that I start to think I've totally misread this whole situation. Finally, he breathes out in an explosive and shaky gasp. "I love you. I was going to tell you before."

"Well why didn't you?" I ask, trying to sound upset and completely failing. I know I have an enormous and goofy grin plastered on my face; so does he, by the way.

"On Valentine's Day," he rolls his eyes, "Thought it would be kinda stupid."

I know he's not being completely truthful, but that's okay. We've said it and the whys and the wherefores aren't important anymore.

I crane my neck to look at the clock. 12:03. "Well, Lucas Danes, it's not Valentine's Day anymore — hasn't been for three whole minutes and, by my precise, and undoubtedly accurate, calculations I figure we didn't say it on the 14th but the 15th. The 15th's just a regular day."

He smiles down at me, "Not anymore."

Damn. He's actually really good at this. I pick my head up to kiss him, reveling in the fact that we love each other. Life is pretty perfect.

Several fevered moments later, I lay my head back down on the pillow and gaze at his swollen lips. "This is way better than candy and flowers, Luke."

"But not better than tickets to the Bangles reunion tour."

I move my gaze back up to his eyes and see the lingering hesitation in them — he's still not completely convinced that I'm really in love with him. I realize that this is too precious to joke about; at least right now. One day this will become something we can tease and banter about — but not today — not this no-longer-regular-Tuesday.

I tug him into my arms and pull his face close to mine. "Luke, this is better than coffee."


End file.
